


wake up calls

by preromantics



Category: Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-12
Updated: 2010-04-12
Packaged: 2017-10-08 21:45:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/79820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/preromantics/pseuds/preromantics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Brendon tangles a rough hand in Ryan's hair and says, low and dirty, "Get me wet, fuck."</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	wake up calls

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on LJ: 12/28/07.

"Brendon, what," Ryan mumbles, pushing at the new weight against his shoulder. Brendon breathes heavy into Ryan's ear.

"Oh, come on," he says - sounds so fucking awake, god, "you couldn't have been asleep."

Ryan bats at him, misses. "What time is it, fuck," he groans, garbled.

"Three," Brendon says in a cheerful whisper, then, "I'm horny." Ryan can feel him grin against his neck.

"Oh, god, go away, get out of my bunk," Ryan says, but then he can feel, clearly, Brendon hard against his ass between the covers.

Brendon licks a stripe of wethot along Ryan's throat, aimed strange in the darkness. He grips at Ryan's hip, sliding his fingers just barely under the waistband of Ryan's boxers.

"Come on," Ryan starts to say, a protest, but Brendon leans over to capture his lips, wetly, and slides his hand all the way down to grab at Ryan's dick, rough. Ryan's words disintegrate into a choke.

Brendon chuckles, low - someone snores from another bunk. Ryan tenses under Brendon, listening. Brendon rubs at his collarbone with his free hand, twists his wrist just so at the base of Ryan's dick and Ryan jerks a little, feels himself getting hard from Brendon's hand.

Ryan moans, biting his lip to be quiet. Brendon pushes the covers down to the corner, pulling up his body weight (and taking his hand out of Ryan's boxers) to settle on top of Ryan.

"What do you want?" Brendon asks, just a low whisper. Ryan pushes up his hips, baring his neck with the hope Brendon takes the hint. Brendon pushes back, hardheavy pressure that makes Ryan both twist away and push back up.

"What do you want?" Brendon repeats.

"Fuck," Ryan growls, "You're the one just who came to me." He maybe ruts under Brendon unintentionally, but it works as emphasis.

"That's right," Brendon says, thoughtfully, "And I could just leave at anytime." He's smirking, Ryan knows. He has to be. He angles his body away from Ryan, pulling back, and Ryan can't help but fall for it, moving with him and pressing at the small of Brendon's back to pull him closer.

Brendon makes a pleased noise low in his throat, "So?" he asks.

Ryan huffs. "Just," he says, "Please, just."

Brendon shrugs against him, rolling his hips lightly, just enough.

Tired, Ryan concedes, "You, want you."

"More," Brendon demands, but he nuzzles under Ryan's chin, scrapes his teeth along his collar bone. He pulls back again, and pushes Ryan away when he goes to follow, then tugs down Ryan's boxers, and flicks his thumb over the head of Ryan's cock.

Ryan hisses, lets Brendon slide down further until he feels Brendon's hot breath against the inside of his thigh. He's hard, so hard just from this and when Brendon wraps his lips around the tip of his cock he moans, loud before he remembers, and cuts himself off, biting down on his lip.

Brendon swirls his tongue, making sort of obscene wet noises that are magnified in the silence of the early morning. He gets a rhythm going - just enough that Ryan is pulling at the sheets, curling fingers into Brendon's hair - and then pulls off, sliding suddenly back up to the top edge of the bunk.

Ryan whines, just a little.

"So," Brendon says, light but gravelly.

Ryan grabs at Brendon's neck, at his outline, tries to bring him down, but Brendon resists.

"What ever could you want, Ross?" he laughs.

"Fuck you," Ryan growls, and reaches down to palm at his own dick. Brendon notices and pulls his hand back up, angles it towards his own dick, hard underneath his flannel pants. Ryan curls his fingers around through the fabric, can't help it, and Brendon bucks up a little when he squeezes.

"You'll have to tell me," Brendon says, but Ryan smiles a little at the gasp that ends it when he twists his wrist.

He wants to hold out, he really does. Doesn't want to give in when he should just get what he wants - he was the one sleeping in the first place, anyways. But Brendon tugs his own pants down, and Ryan can see in the light from the shadows the glistening tip of Brendon's cock, hard, and Ryan's mind supplies the rest, and he's leaning forward quick to take Brendon in.

Brendon groans, grabs at the ceiling of the bunk - and it's loud. Ryan hooks an arm around his waist and pulls him in closer, sliding back himself to settle between Brendon's legs and take him in again. He takes him down as far as he can, pulling his wrist out of Brendon's grip to squeeze the base.

Brendon groans again, through his nose to stifle it, and Ryan hums low in his throat, somewhat pleased, subconsciously rutting against the sheets. Brendon tangles a rough hand in Ryan's hair and says, low and dirty, "Get me wet, fuck."

Ryan almost chokes at this, pulling off in order not to. "Yeah," he says, and then again, "yeah," but more like a question.

Brendon twists a fistful of Ryan's hair, bordering on painful, and pulls him back up. "Good enough," he says, growls.

Ryan straddles him, hunched over and far enough back to feel Brendon's dick wet against the crack of his ass. Brendon grips his chin and pushes two fingers past his lips, letting Ryan coat them quickly before pulling them out and reaching behind, pushing one into the tight ring of Ryan's asshole.

"Fuck," Ryan grunts, pushing back against the fingers as another one slips in. Brendon curls them around, up, and Ryan moans breathlessly. "Now," he says.

Brendon spreads Ryan's cheeks with one hand, and guides his dick with the other, and Ryan's slides down, dull throbbing good pressure. Brendon's hands settle at his hips, pulling him back up and helping him push back down. Ryan minds his head on the top of the bunk, but doesn't care when it does hit, light pressure in counterpart of the spiraling hot ache below.

Ryan speeds up, and Brendon's grip grows tighter on his hips, fingers curling in at the ridge of his hipbone. It's loud, Ryan knows, it's loud the skin on skin each time he comes back down harderfaster, the gasps of air he's taking on each downward thrust, but he can't bring himself to care. Brendon pushes up each time, breathing in short little bursts.

Ryan's thighs tense, burning from the odd angle, flattened in the minimal space of the bunk, but he keeps pushing down harder, letting Brendon's hands pull at him, all the while thinking more and yes and Brendon and biting the inside of his cheek as not to say it.

The muscles in Brendon's arms tense, and he takes a hand off Ryan's hip to wrap it around Ryan's dick, pulling only a few times before Ryan comes over his knuckles, both of their stomachs. The rest of him tenses as Ryan tightens around his dick, moaning breathlessly, and he pulls Ryan down hard one last time before coming inside, twisting his head to bite at the pillowcase.

They stay like that for a minute, Ryan sucking in loud asthmatic breaths, and Brendon's jaw clenched around the salty material of the pillow.

"Fuck," Ryan says, groaning as he pulls off.

"Jesus," Brendon agrees, slipping his shirt over his head to clean them up.

Ryan tugs up the blankets, curling into Brendon's side, content.

"Aren't you glad I woke you up?" Brendon asks. He brushes his lips across Ryan's cheek.

"No," Ryan says, but he's smiling, turning his head up to meet Brendon's lips.

"I'm not!" Jon's voice chimes in from above, sleepy and gravelly, "I did not appreciate that wake up."

"Me either," Spencer's voice says, also coming from above.

Brendon laughs, "Are you in the same bunk as Jon Walker, Spencer Smith?"

Ryan laughs too, sort of flushing, and watches Brendon reach a hand up to knock at the ceiling.

"No!" Jon and Spencer say together. From the same place.

"Whatever," Brendon says, pulling Ryan closer and snuggling into his body heat.

"Whatever," Ryan echos, sleepy and content and loose.


End file.
